Life Like An Empty Dream Flits By.

Look Upon The Errors Of Others In Sorrow, Not In Anger.

It Is The Harvest Moon! On Gilded Vanes And Roofs Of Villages, On Woodland Crests And Their Aerial Neighborhoods Of Nests Deserted, On The Curtained Window-panes Of Rooms Where Children Sleep, On Country Lanes And Harvest-fields, Its Mystic Splendor Rests.

Sculpture Is More Divine, And More Like Nature, That Fashions All Her Works In High Relief, And That Is Sculpture. This Vast Ball, The Earth, Was Moulded Out Of Clay, And Baked In Fire; Men, Women, And All Animals That Breathe Are Statues, And Not Paintings.

Art Is The Child Of Nature.

The Laws Of Nature Are Just, But Terrible. There Is No Weak Mercy In Them. Cause And Consequence Are Inseparable And Inevitable.